one day
by hug the ents
Summary: a series of one shots and drabbles about legolas's childhood


**Chapter 1**

**this is just a selection of one-shots and drabbles about legolas's childhood. **

**DISCLAIMER: anything you recognise dosn't belong to me.**

"Ada, Ada!"

The young elfling rushed through the halls of the elven palace. Older elves looked on, bemused. Legolas reached the door of his father's study and barged in, forgetting to knock. Thranduil looked up from his work to see his son, covered from head to toe in mud, standing proudly in front of him. "What is it _hen_?" Thranduil asked. "Ada, you said you would play with me today". Legolas pouted.

Thranduil sighed. "I know my dear, I know but I have a lot of work to do"

If it was possible, Legolas looked even more annoyed. "But Ada….."

"Alright legolas. If you are good today I will play with you tomorrow".

"Adaaaaaaa….." legolas whined. "But you said…"

"No legolas"

"Adaaaaaaa…."

Thranduil was beginning to lose his patience. "Look legolas. It is already beginning to get dark. The sun will soon be gone and the moon will replace him. If you go and clean that mud off of yourself, I will tell you a story."

Legolas stopped whining and looked up, a huge grin on his little face "really Ada?"

Thranduil sighed. "Anything to get you to stop that infernal whining". Honestly legolas, you are a prince of the woodland realm and you should behave in a more mature manner than this…"

But legolas was already gone, getting ready for bed so his Ada would tell him one of his wonderful stories about the land in which they lived in.

He was snuggled up in bed when his Ada came in.

He sat down on the end of legolas's bed and smiled. "I am going to tell you the tale of luthien and beren". Legolas nodded happily and snuggled further under the covers.

_The leaves were long, the grass was green,  
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,  
And in the glade a light was seen  
Of stars in shadow shimmering.  
Tinúviel was dancing there  
To music of a pipe unseen,  
And light of stars was in her hair,  
And in her raiment glimmering._

There Beren came from mountains cold,  
And lost he wandered under leaves,  
And where the Elven-river rolled  
He walked alone and sorrowing.  
He peered between the hemlock-leaves  
And saw in wonder flowers of gold  
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,  
And her hair like shadow following.

Enchantment healed his weary feet  
That over hills were doomed to roam;  
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,  
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.  
Through woven woods in Elvenhome  
She lightly fled on dancing feet,  
And left him lonely still to roam  
In the silent forest listening.

He heard there oft the flying sound  
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,  
Or music welling underground,  
In hidden hollows quavering.  
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,  
And one by one with sighing sound  
Whispering fell the beachen leaves  
In the wintry woodland wavering.

He sought her ever, wandering far  
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,  
By light of moon and ray of star  
In frosty heavens shivering.  
Her mantle glinted in the moon,  
As on a hill-top high and far  
She danced, and at her feet was strewn  
A mist of silver quivering.

When winter passed, she came again,  
And her song released the sudden spring,  
Like rising lark, and falling rain,  
And melting water bubbling.  
He saw the elven-flowers spring  
About her feet, and healed again  
He longed by her to dance and sing  
Upon the grass untroubling.

Again she fled, but swift he came.  
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!  
He called her by her elvish name;  
And there she halted listening.  
One moment stood she, and a spell  
His voice laid on her: Beren came,  
And doom fell on Tinúviel  
That in his arms lay glistening.

As Beren looked into her eyes  
Within the shadows of her hair,  
The trembling starlight of the skies  
He saw there mirrored shimmering.  
Tinúviel the elven-fair,  
Immortal maiden elven-wise,  
About him cast her shadowy hair  
And arms like silver glimmering.

Long was the way that fate them bore,  
O'er stony mountains cold and grey,  
Through halls of ireon and darkling door,  
And woods of nightshade morrowless.  
The Sundering Seas between them lay,  
And yet at last they met once more,  
And long ago they passed away  
In the forest singing sorrowless.

"Tis is more of a song really, my dear" Thranduil said after he had finished the sad tale. He leaned over and kissed his son on the top of his golden head, then left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Legolas fell asleep quickly, dreaming of the day that he would do something that people would write a song about. One day…. Maybe one day.

_**hen**__- _**sindarin for child**


End file.
